Year 500: The IceRoy
by Grindylowe
Summary: Before there was the Ice King there was The Iceroy, and boy could he stop a party cold. (This is a oneshot theorizing what Ice King was like midway between his appearance in "Simon and Marcy" and modern Ooo - at "Year 500" of his thousand years.)


_(This is a oneshot theorizing what Ice King was like midway between his appearance in "Simon and Marcy" and modern Ooo - at "Year 500" of his thousand years.)_

**Year 500: The Iceroy**

The bass pounded through GlitterCob Township.

Where the Candy Kingdom is now, GlitterCob Township once was, a loosely united settlement of disco mutants, go-go babes, candy witches, and audio wizards. All the buildings were made of cob struck through with literally tons of multicolored glitter. When the inhabitants first settled there they'd stumbled upon an ancient delivery truck filled with craft supplies, at right about the depth the pre-Mushroom War artifacts tended to be, buried beneath five hundred years worth of sediment. Inside the truck was yarn, glue, dress forms, and rusted out sewing machines, but the most remarkable of the finds was barrel upon barrel of rainbow glitter. They found it alluring and packed it into every wall they built, and so the town was named.

They'd made use of the other artifacts as well, most notably the dress forms, which over the years were coated with various layers of found-object armor and acted as sentinels for what equated to GlitterCob Township's place of secular worship: The Dance Floor.

It was from here that the bass pounded, and loud enough to draw partygoers from every corner of what was not quite yet Ooo, and some from entirely outside of not-quite-yet Ooo, namely the Night-o-Sphere, and most notably the celebrated daughter of that ghastly realm, a young and enthusiastic Marceline Abadeer, looking slightly uncomfortable in her first miniskirt.

She liked the music, a throbbing, bassy, wet descendant of what was known in pre Mushroom-War as _trap, _complete with highly skewed attempts at a language the GlitterCobbers didn't know was Spanish. The DJ was a seven foot spider who went by the stage name rrRaKn1D, a friend of hers. He used his many legs to throw record after record onto five decks, mixing the music so quickly yet so skillfully that it was nigh impossible to tell where the tracks began and ended, only that they were united by an addictive and relentlessly slamming bassline.

Assisting rrRakn1D with the spider's enormous collection of vinyl was it's friend Ash, a young wizard with what Marceline termed "killer style and wicked hair." It was really him she'd come to see, and she fully planned on attending rrRakn1D's exclusive afterparty in order to get closer to him. And beer. But mostly him.

She danced, anxiously pushing her skirt down when the dancing caused it to ride up, keeping her eyes on Ash, who did not have his eyes on her. _Stage lights. He's probably looking for me but he can't see me_, Marceline decided with the kind reality-denying force that only a hopeless crush can bring. When Ash moved offstage to get another dolly full of records she lost interest in rrRakn1D's laser-encrusted stage spectacle and turned to look back over the crowd.

Something caught her attention.

She took a quick breath and held it. Straightened. Dancing through the crowd was a head of white hair framing a familiar big-nosed, blue face, atop which was a golden crown. She smiled -could not help but smile - and stood on her tiptoes to see over heads and get a better look at him. When this didn't work she weaved her way back between bodies, tracking him, ignoring the warning pit experience had placed in her stomach.

He liked big parties and tended to show up at them, especially GlitterCob parties, as the tower of ice he called home was within hearing distance of the biggest ones. She watched him spin and and sway through the crowd with a look of genuine happiness that warmed her heart. Though it had been ages since she saw him with any sort of regularity, more often than not he was sad and confused, so seeing him this happy was a pleasure. Enchanted she crept closer, close enough to hear him sing along with the music.

"_Obtener esa puta en mi coche! Obtener esa puta en mi coche!_" he sang, waving his hand in the air, the other hand burdened with a tray made of ice that carried six drinks. He spun, the filthy patched blanked he wore round his shoulders as a sort of cloak twirling around him.

"Oh boy, The _Iceroy_ is here," said a nearby witch grumbled.

"Oh man, it sure wouldn't be a party without The Iceroy," her disco mutant friend said cattily.

Marceline frowned. "Is that what he's calling himself now?"

The witch nodded. "Yup. Play on "viceroy" I think. Like he's _royalty_ or something. Douche."

"Actually a viceroy rules _in place_ of the Monarch," a third girl, tall and leafy and straight, said in a matter of fact tone.

"Thanks Celery Princess, we totally gave a crap," the catty witch said.

To her credit Celery Princess took the jab in stride. "Well, now you know. And what's your big problem with the guy? He's a good dancer at least. Nice suit too. Well. It was nice once at least." She tilted her leafy head as much as she could, which wasn't much, and said, "He's kind of cute, in a way."

"Oh _please _go grind on him, be my friggin' guest!" the witch laughed, gesturing to The Iceroy.

Celery Princess frowned. "Fine. Maybe I will," she said, and started towards him.

The disco mutant grabbed Celery Princess's arm. "Don't do it, seriously. Dude is a mega-skeezy skeezer."

Marceline frowned. She knew all to well of his reputation of being, well, gross, but she never enjoyed hearing about it. Or seeing it; before their eyes he made an attempt to sidle up to a woman who violently pushed him away after only a moment. He stumbled but regained his footing quite expertly for someone who carried a tray full of drinks, none of which spilled.

Marceline titled her head. "I wonder who the drinks are for?"

"He doesn't seem to be headed anywhere with them," Celery Princess mused. "Maybe they're all for him?"

She blinked. "I hope not."

Marceline felt a lump form in her throat and swallowed it. _You know better than to go talk to him_, she thought. _You know what you'll get_. She sighed and shook her head, then turned to look back at the stage, to Ash, who happily helped rrRakn1D sift through a stack of ancient vinyl. She began to sidle her way through the crowd back up to the stage. She barely had time to turn before cold hands were on her, hands that spun her around. A body pressed against hers.

"Hey miss, let me hide in your hair!" Simon whispered. He crouched behind her calves, covering himself with her hair.

"What- what the hell, dude?"

"Shhh! Shhh! They're looking for me!"

"Who?" she asked, but the question was answered for her. Two of the huge winged bouncers were asking people where The Iceroy went.

"He trapped the Go-Go Princesses in a cage made of ice backstage," one grunted.

"Just while I was getting them drinks!" he protested quietly.

"Ugh," Marceline said. "Look. Get up and we'll find a better place to hide, okay?"

He agreed with this plan of action and stood, but still attempted to remain hidden in her hair. People were looking at them strangely.

"This is dumb. What you are doing right now is dumb," Marceline hissed.

"Shhh. Stealth!"

"Oh for glob's sake -" she turned, took him by the shoulders,and pushed him as hard as she could towards the dark wings of the Dance Floor, where people drank and lounged and made out. Eventually she got him into the darkest corner possible and drew a decorative curtain around the two of them.

"There. Hidden. Ugh. Why can you can't just act normal for once?"

He blinked. Raised his eyebrows. "Wowzers. This is some good hiding, thanks," he said, tilting his head to look at her. There was a flicker, wheels turning. Marceline held her breath as he studied her face in the darkness. Her heart pounded. She tried not to think it but she couldn't help herself.

_Recognize me. Recognize me. Recognize me_.

"Hey," he said softly, puzzled. "It's funny, but I feel like I know you from somewhere," he finally said. "Have I … have I seen you here before?"

She bit her lip. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"Um. You all right?" he asked.

She threw her arms around him.

"Whoa! Well hey!" he said. "Aw, you're hugging me. That's nice. Wanted to get me in here to hug me? In here all alone? For hugging?"

"Of course I want to hug you, you dork."

"You…do?"

"Yes," she said into his shoulder. "I miss you all the time, Simon."

He twitched in her arms. Stiffened. "What..what did you call me?" he whispered.

"Simon," she said, pulling away from him so she could meet his eyes. "Your name. Simon. But you haven't really remembered that for a long time now."

His brow furrowed. "I … "

She took his hand between both of hers. "It's ringing a bell, right?" she asked hopefully. "Somewhere in there, you remember Simon, right?"

He looked up at her in utter confusion. "It's not … I don't…" He shook his head. "I - I knew someone named Simon. Once. I think. A long long time ago. But you're so young, it would have been way before you were born."

"No! You _were_ Simon, a long long time ago. And me! You - you remember me, right? I'm Marceline. Marcy. We - we were best friends. You saved my life," she said, tears welling up. "Please, Simon, you have to remember. _I know you remember!_" Desperation began to crawl upwards through her chest, a dark vine. She took him by the shoulders and shook him slightly, her voice cracking with sorrow. "Simon, please. Glob I miss you so much, please just remember me for like five minutes. That's all I want. Please just try."

"Try what?"

"Remembering!"

"Remembering _what_?"

"You! Me! Us!" she said. A tear rolled down her face. "Shit," she said, wiping it away.

"Oh hey," he said suddenly, and wrapped his arms around. "No no. Please don't cry, little girl."

She burst into tears.

"Hey hey hey. Hey now," he said, rocking her back and forth. "Just tell The Iceroy what's wrong."

Despite herself she laughed. "I just told you what's wrong."

"Tell me what I can do to make you feel better?"

"I told you that too."

"Oh," he said, sounding discouraged. "Hey! I know! I'll write a song for you! Ready, here goes: doo doo doop do wap, I met a pretty girl at a party, do do do da dooo, she told me that she knew me, do do do do, I wish I knew her too, do da da da da, but there's not much I can do, do da do do doo, because my memory is poo!"

Despite herself Marceline laughed.

"There! Better? You better?" he asked, grinning. "You're smiling! I see you smiling!"

She nodded. "Yeah. Thanks. Dork."

"Great! What now?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Oh I do. Wanna watch a movie? Let's go watch a movie," he said. He stepped forward, put his arm around her waist, and dipped her. "At my place," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Marceline began to wriggle out of his grasp, but suddenly the curtain flew open, and she found herself looking up into the face of one of the huge winged bouncers who looked for The Iceroy earlier."

"There you are!" the bouncer growled. "Let that girl go!"

Simon dropped her. She fell to the ground, hard, yelping as she landed on her tailbone.

The Bouncer reached for Simon. "I'm gonna have to force you to leave, sir."

"ICEROY!" Simon exclaimed, blasting the bouncer, and incidentally Marceline, with ice that quickly soldiered them together. Having trapped them both he leapt away and took off running.

"There! There he is!" Marceline heard other bouncers exclaim.

"ICEROY! ICEROY!" Simon called back, firing ice blasts at random. People screamed. Marceline closed her eyes. He'd frozen her in such a way that she couldn't turn to look at what was going on, but it was a relief. She didn't want to see it. Hearing his mad laughter was enough. More than she ever wanted to hear.

"You okay?" the bouncer asked her, his voice slightly muffled.

"Yeah," she said.

"That guy is a real dick."

"Yeah," she sighed. "Yeah."

**000**

After a while they found someone in the club who could channel heat, and in return for a lifetime of free drinks he went about releasing the patrons Simon had imprisoned in ice. When she finally wriggled free her clothes were soaked, her hair was a mess, and her mascara ran down her puffy, post-crying face. As she made a beeline for the exit she heard ticking insectoid feet behind her, and felt a gentle claw on her shoulder. She turned to see rrRakn1D, concern in his compound eyes.

"Hey Marcy, did that dude get you? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I - I just want to go home," she said, failing to add _before Ash sees me like this_.

"Aw, no way bro! Come on, we're still having the afterparty."

"Yeah and it's gonna _suck_ now," Ash said, pushing a dolly of records. "He didn't freeze these at least."

"Ash, tell Marceline to come to the afterparty!"

"Who?" Ash asked, looking up at her messy face. He grimaced. "Yikes."

In response rrRakn1D gave him dirty look and an abrupt shove, but it was too late. Marceline had already crumpled and died inside.

"I'll - I'm just gonna go home if that's okay, Rak."

"Yeah okay," rrRakn1D said, apologetic. "Sorry."

"Its - it's okay, she said, and turned to walk away.

"Wait, who even was that?" she heard Ash ask.

She walked faster.

When she got outside she saw The Iceroy's tower glistening in the moonlight. Something was happening at the top of it, figures flying, chasing one figure it particular, who fired barely visible jets of ice at his pursuers.

"Oh my glob, they're still chasing him! Look!" said a voice behind her. She half turned to see the catty witch and her friends coming up behind her, their eyes locked on the tower, and not ahead of them. As a result they slammed into Marceline, knocking her to the ground.

"Hey! Watch where you're _fucking_ going, moron!" the catty witch scolded and marched off.

"Whatever, go get fucked," Marceline replied, but her voice was quiet and defeated and the catty witch didn't hear her. Marceline glanced up at the ice tower in the distance, where the battle still raged.

"He's probably gonna keep them going all night," someone passing by muttered.

"Yeah. He can be real hard to catch apparently," his friend said.

"Well I wish someone would already. Glob. What a stupid asshole."

_He used to be a nice person_, she wanted to say. _He used to be the BEST person. But you wouldn't believe me. _

People kept passing her by. No one offered to help her up, so Marceline got to her feet, brushed herself off, and made her way out of GlitterCob Township having never felt more like absolutely no one.

**000**


End file.
